


Unraveling

by Tandy



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 01:53:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5690083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tandy/pseuds/Tandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blackness invades the edges of her vision as he carries gently into his ship. Her head falls onto his chest without her volition. As she sinks further into unconsciousness she dimly registers the way he gently tucks her closer against his shoulder</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unraveling

_My attempt at Reylo..._

****

Rey tries to stem the bleeding from her wounded shoulder as she runs wildly through the dense forest.  She knows she won’t last long but there’s no other choice. The Stormtroopers are so close behind her she can hear their heavy steps.   Her eyes dart around for a possible escape route but there is none. Her ship is beyond reach, as are Finn and Chewie. The attack had been swift but precisely orchestrated, scattering her comrades further and further away from each other. Her only recourse was to run, to try to get to the Falcon, but the troopers, a multitude of them, had kept her well away. 

She pushes on as her gait becomes clumsy and her visions blurs.  The situation is dire indeed, but she’s survived much less unscathed from worse battles. Certainly she can outrun a bunch of brainwashed foot soldiers. The thought does not buoyed her as intended considering her rapidly deteriorating physical state. She trips, but catches herself. Panting, she holds onto a tree for support and listens for the sound of her pursuers.

They’re close, but it’s another sense that has her turning her head east.   Safety beckons to her amid the shouts of the troopers and the sting of her wound.  No time to do anything else, only to trust her instinct in the Force.  Pushing off the tree she ambles east on shaky legs. Her feet gain strength as the feeling grows stronger.  

It’s rough terrain but she manages to keep ahead of the troopers. When the feeling is impossibly strong she reaches a clearing where all hope dies. There’s a First Order command shuttle sprawled ominously amid the green forest and blue sky.  Kylo Ren’s command shuttle to be exact. She turns on her heel, but there’s nowhere to run.  A storm trooper wielding a blaster appears. She manages to dodge his attack but loses her footing in the effort as well as her saber.

Finn comes to mind as the First Order puppet approaches to deal the final blow. She thinks of his smile and his eyes, gathering strength as she calls to the saber, willing it to come to her, though she doubts it would be much help.  Finally, her weapon is in her grasp, she braces herself for another attack.

It doesn’t come. 

He’s there. In front of her in a protective stance. His saber red and angry, cutting down her would be killers.  The world spins around her, black, white and red mix dizzyingly. Nothing makes sense. Not the ambush or the chase, or the sense of safety and protection that is being emitted by Kylo Ren.

There’s no strength in her bones to recoil at the sight of his mask peering down at her nor the will to struggle as he lifts her into his arms.  Blackness invades the edges of her vision as he carries gently into his ship. Her head falls onto his chest without her volition. As she sinks further into unconsciousness she dimly registers the way he gently tucks her closer against his shoulder.

***

Rey is startled awake by the mechanical humming of a medical droid. She swats it away impatiently, trying to gather her bearings.  It only takes a moment to notice his heavy presence coming toward her.  Snapping into fighting mode she jumps on the bed and braces herself for a fight.  A quick perusal of the room she’s in tells her she’s at a standard medbay with no ally or weapon in sight.

The pounding of her heart gets stronger as his energy nears. Rey clenches her jaw, ready to face him. He walks into the door in full regalia.  Whatever he wants from her she’s not going to give it to him. He’d made a mistake by not restraining her. Rey was no longer an untrained girl, he would paid dearly for that mistake.

“Such hostility for your rescuer,” he says, his voice warped by the mask, making his words ominous threats.

“You claim credit for saving me from a dangerous situation that you orchestrated,” she scoffs at him.

Her wound having been tended and her strength returned and her mind now clear, she realizes how true her words are. The ambush in outer rim neutral territory was unlikely, especially with the precision with which it had been carried out. Obvious how easily she’d been separated from Chewie and Finn, herded straight to his ship.

“I was clear that you were not to be harmed. So yes, I take the credit.”

Her friends would be frantic and desperate to find her.  If they were still alive that is. She reaches out with the Force to try to locate them on the ship but finds no other passengers on board.

“You were the target.  They should have survived the ordeal relatively unharmed. I imagine they’re still in Lothal looking for you, though I can’t say with certainty. “

“What do you want from me?” she snaps, tired of his fake courtesy. The mask is unnerving and the filtered voice makes her skin crawl.

“I’ve yet to decide.”

It was lie. He knew exactly what he was after. Rey frowns at him feeling the sting of his fear and his hesitation.  He towers in front of her, holding back, his form impassive but his emotions…

“Stop.” The voice is monotonous but she can feel the air tense around them. “Stop,” he repeats and she can almost taste the raw pain.

There’s no help for it.  She can’t prevent from sensing him.  From the first moment they’ve met they’ve had this… link. Even with the new skills Luke has thought her there’s no else she can read as well as him.

“I know,” he says as he sinks into a chair. Rey blinks rapidly at the image. It’s surreal how big his body is, how he dwarfs the seat beneath him.  “It’s the same for me.”

Rey doesn’t relax though his posture is not threatening. She’s still primed to fight, “What do you want?” she asks again.

“To go home. “ His voice is soft, almost imperceptible. She senses the words more than she hears them. “Take me to the rebel headquarters.”  

Of all the things he could have said she would never have expected these particular ones. His admission packs an emotional punch and she falls back into bed. The droid she shoved away before continues its ministrations. As the droid rattles about her vitals, Rey tries to get her head around what he has just said. “Why?”

“My reasons are my own.  Suffice to say that I have information that the rebels would benefit greatly from. Starting from the spy that disclosed your location in Lothal.  But there’s not much time.  The attack on you was a diversion.  Snoke will know soon that I have betrayed him.  We have a day at the most before he will start hunting me down. “

There was no discernable deceit in his words but there were no assurances either.  It was too risky to trust him. There was no way she was taking him to their base.  She could very well wait for Snoke to deal with him. However that would entail being captured or killed as well.  Fighting Ren would be foolish, even if she managed to overpower him whatever information he had would be lost.  Out of options, the only thing Rey was sure of was that she’d rather die that unleash him onto the resistance, onto Leia.

“My intention is not to harm.” He snaps. “Take it as a sign of sincerity that I’m even asking. I could very well just get their location by other means.”

“How reassuring,” she snarls at him.

“You know I’m not lying.”

“I want to know why you want to go home.”

“I need you to take me to the rebel base. I have information that could topple the First Order. Must you know the why of it?”

He’s not lying that she knows, but it doesn’t mean he’s not withholding information. Most likely he is, she tries to read him but he shuts her out as much as he can. There’s only a glimmer of anxiety and urgency emanating from him. “You need to give me a reason to help you. I need a reason to trust you.”

Grief, raw and sharp, pours out of him. “Does that satisfy you?” His voice is emotionless, that mechanical rattle setting her teeth on age. He sits there, seemingly unperturbed, in his dark robes and his ugly mask.

“I want to see your face.”

Rey strides toward him when he makes no move to remove the mask. She releases the latches as if she had done it a million times before.  She stares at the menacing thing and throws it over her shoulders without ceremony. Then she looks at his face.

It’s just as she remembers.  The lips are plump and soft looking, his nose is large, the hair, easily his best asset is thick and glossy. The eyes are dark and full of tragedy. There’s a new feature, her very own addition, a scar that mars his narrow face from the corner of his lip and across his narrow face to end at his forehead.  The raised skin on his face urges her to touch. It’s a compelling face, strangely alluring.

“I almost took your eye,” she says, more to herself than to him, as she traces his scar with her eyes again.

He bristles, his eyebrows jutting together and his eyes narrowing angrily at the mention of their first and only battle. Humiliation rolls off him at the memory of his defeat but there is something else too, something almost like pride.  That glimmer of a feeling unsettles her. 

She looks down into his startlingly expressive eyes.  He’s more scared that he’s been letting on.  Hungrily she searches his face for more clues, he however, turns away from her prying eyes, hiding himself as best as he can without his mask.

“It was him,” he says, his voice strained to the point of breaking.

He doesn’t use words to tell her. He lets her in. A little. Han was supposed to have been the key to cement his transition into the Dark Side.  The purpose had been to break with all that had linked him to the Light. It was supposed to have made him stronger. It had broken him instead.  The grief over his father had grown stronger with each passing day, and there in his grief and regret he’d found himself again.

“It’s been more than year…”

“I couldn’t very well just walk out.  I had to bid my time if I was going to be of any use at all.  I had to tread carefully. It’s wasn’t easy,” he finishes angrily, more at himself than at her.

“You won’t be welcomed. It’d be better if you gave me the information you have and flee.”

“That would be the wiser choice.”

“Then why go to the trouble of capturing me to convince me to take you to headquarters?”

Leia’s face appeared, weary and determined. It was all the answer she needed. He wanted to see his mother. It was that simple. That basic.  She could understand perfectly. Rey felt his exhaustion as he stood to tower over her. She refused to step back, even as he reached into his robes.

“Do what you will,” he said as he turned over her lightsaber into her hand. “I can give you no more.”

***

The ship was devoid of crew except for several droids, adding more credence to what he claimed.  She had no access to the cockpit, any means to send a signal to her friends, or even figure out just where the hell he’d taken them to. Rey is all too aware of his presence. A presence that permeates every each of the lonely ship. She can pinpoint his exact location with hardly any effort at all.  There’s no escaping his pull, not out here, by themselves.

Tension and frustration thickens the air and though she can tell it’s from him, his actual energy is not quite the same as before.  Rey has sensed it many times on missions to note the difference. It had always called to her, darkly seductive, beckoning for her, like magnets pulling together.

Once during Luke’s training sessions she had asked him about it.  Luke had looked puzzled when she questioned whether the draw she felt toward Kylo Ren was normal amongst some force sensitive individuals. Worriedly he had asked her to elaborate. Rey hadn’t been able to put into words what she felt.

 Sighing, she tried to extricate her feelings from the problem at hand.  Exploring the areas of the ship that she could, Rey deliberated over the decision she had made.  She could let Snoke deal with him. Probably die in the process and loose whatever intel he had with him. Or she could fight him. She’s not entirely sure how she would measure up to an uninjured Kylo Ren. Even if she were to best him, his intel would be lost.  Cornered, she felt the only choice was to take him to their base.  He wasn’t lying, she was sure, and yet the very idea of taking him to the heart of the resistance doesn’t sit well.  

She needs to see his face again.

Already knowing the way, she walks swiftly toward his location.  The ship is no bigger than the Falcon, if only more luxurious she muses as she traverses the hallways to reach him.  He’s taken residence at the sleeping quarters.  So strange to think of him sleeping, or eating, or doing anything that showcases his mortality.

A door opens ahead of her and she knows he’s aware of her too. Biting her lips she walks across the threshold.

Yes, very strange, she thinks. He’s sitting up on the bed, though obviously he had been laying on the bed judging from his messy hair. His legs are wide apart, in that way men sit to make themselves look bigger, though in his case it wasn’t needed. More than that, it his feet that draw her focus. He’s not wearing any shoes.  They’re bared. They’re large and bony, and sturdy and it takes her an embarrassing amount of time to shift her gaze away.

“I’ll take you to your mother,” she tells him. Some of his tension eases at her words. “You’ll be taken prisoner, maybe even put to death.”

“Worried about me? Touching.”

“Hardly. I’m worried about Leia,” she says knowing its lie. Knowing he knows it’s a lie.

“We’ll have to ditch the shuttle, have Finn and Chewie come get us on the Falcon. I’ll have to send a signal to them.” He already knows this too, had probably planned it thus.  All she’s doing is prolonging their interaction.

His face compels her to stare. Having removed the heavy outer cloak his shirt consists of a soft black tunic that is open at the throat. A protruding collar bone winks at her.  The need to see his face to determine her decision had driven her to him. But it had nothing to do with wanting to see the sincerity in it. There were more reliable ways to test him.  Though she was loathed to admit it; having seen it only a handful of times she is thirsty for more.

His dark eyes bore into her, and the Force crackles tellingly around them.

The face before her is not a handsome one. It’s blunt and roughhewn.  He has none of his father’s charm or Leia’s easy grace, or even Luke’s quiet confidence. He lacks Finn’s earnestness or Poe’s good nature.  He possesses none of those qualities, yet there’s not another single being who has appealed to her more.

A hand reaches out to touch his collar bone only to be stopped before reaching its target by his large hand. His hold is not ungentle but it brooks no argument. He doesn’t want to be touched.

“Don’t you feel it?”

“You know I do.”

Her eyes fleet back to his wary ones. “I wasn’t sure… There’s still so much I don’t know.”

“Your teacher excels at prolonging his own usefulness,” his says rankly.

Rey shakes his hand off with little effort and ignores the sudden thickening of his energy that tells her she’s pushing too much.  Her thumb traces the long bone, back and forth across one shoulder to the other.

His breathing has become shallow and his eyes are dark and dangerous. “What are you doing?”

“Giving in,” she answers.

Taking two handfuls of his thick hair she drops to her knees before him.  He doesn’t put up much of a fight when she lowers his head to kiss him, but his lips remain unyielding to hers.  They’re soft, so soft. She’s known this, had dreamt about them, the fullness of them. She kisses and nips, swiping at them with her tongue to no avail.  There’s so many barriers shielding him, so many years invested in building them. He can’t let go.  

But he’s shaking under her hands and his restrain is palpable.

“Ben,” she whispers against his mouth, remembering the gawky smiling boy in the portrait Leia had shown her.  “Ben.”

With a shutter of defeat he gives into her. His kisses are greedy and raw, like a man starving. She slants her mouth against his, and groans at the feel of his arms encircling her tightly.  Maybe it’s she that’s being greedy, the one that can’t get enough. This is what has been simmering between them since the very first time they met.

He’s not a good man, far from it, and the appropriateness of the action she’s taking is pretty damn obvious.  But when she looks into his eyes she sees all her pain and loneness mirrored back. Rey wants the connection, wants to be lost in it; wants him to lose herself in her. Surviving alone in the desert has made her cautious and frugal, but not this time, this time she’ll take all she wants, will gorge herself until she can’t take anymore.

There is so much of him, so much to explore, from his ridiculously pretty hair, to his wide shoulders and wicked lips. She wants more. Breaking away from him she takes a moment to smile at his swollen lips before pressing her own to his throat.  She feels the deep swallow, the shuddering breath, the answering need.

Her mouth lowers to lave at the collar bone that had enticed her so.  Impeded by his shirt Rey impatiently shoves her hands under it and pulls it off him with one quick jerk. It makes her mouth water, the sight of his chest, taunt and nicely defined. She licks a path down, to the trail of hair that leads into his pants.  He flinches beneath her and grunts as her hands make quick work of his last article of clothing.

She looks up at him when she takes him into her hand. His pupils are completely blown, his mouth half-opened and panting, and his hands are grasping the bed desperately.  Without breaking eye contact she takes him into her mouth.  The sound he makes deep in his throat reverberates through her whole body. Rey keeps that sound, buries it deep within her.

This is not the usual encounters he’s had to relief a simple bodily need. This is something else.  It scares him and makes him burn at the same time. He’s still trying to hold on, to pretend this goes no further than a mouth on his cock giving him pleasure.

They’re too far gone for just that. She sucks the very tip, watching as he throws his head back. She runs her tongue down his considerable length, lets him know without words that is she who holds the power.  Their energies mingle and combine, their desire spiking at the feel of each other’s pleasure and need. “Rey,” he says, his hand coming to rest on her head as his hips raise up to meet her mouth.

“You do know my name,” she says lightly, between licks and sucks that drive him crazy.

“I know everything about you.”

“Not everything.” She pushes him back gently to lay on the bed. He obeys her gentle prodding, raises onto his elbows to watch her with half lidded eyes as she undresses for him.

Climbing atop of him she kisses his mouth again, still hungry, still greedy.  He’s pressing tortuously into her entrance and leaning back she takes his cock into her hand again and takes him inside of her inch by thick inch until she’s pressed firmly against his wiry hair.

She takes a breath to fully appreciate the utter perfection of the moment. But soon the hands on her waist and hips are urging her on, snapping her into a quick rhythm that has her forgetting everything except the feel of them together, like this, minds and bodies connected.

With a grunt he sits ups lodging himself deeper inside of her.  His mouth latches on her breast and his hands remain on her hips, aiding her increasingly frantic movements.  His hips snap up just so, his hands bring her down hard against him, and she’s gone and he along with her.

He places soft kisses on her chest and her shoulders, her eyelids, anything that he can reach. So bereft of emotional bonds for so long that now he wants to drown in theirs. Thy both fall back into bed in a replete stupor.  Rey leys atop him, listening to the beat of his heart as their bodies cool.

Ben doesn’t seem to mind, so she stays where she at. Then reality strikes and she knows she has to get up, beacon to her friends and get the hell out before Snoke knows he’s been betrayed.

“I need access to-“

“It’s already done. Go.”

She doesn’t want to leave him, doesn’t want to leave their frail cocoon.

“Hurry.”

The unlikely request makes her smile. Quickly she puts on the first article of clothing she encounters which just happens to be his discarded shirt. She leaves their room barefoot and almost at a run. Almost.

The message is sent, her location disclosed and her friends are reassured. It takes her longer than anticipated. She tries to explain as much as she can, but she can tell they guys aren’t convinced but they’ll do as she says regardless.   Making her way back to him, she lets him into her mind, and delights when he answers back in his own tentative way. It’s like holding hands.

When she gets back Rey finds that he’s taken over the bed. His large frame is sprawled right in the middle of the mattress, arms and legs spread. It’s a sight really, a naked long limbed Ben, hair seriously mussed, half covering his face, with his defenses down and his energy almost calm. She’d done that, Rey thinks as she jumps into bed with him.

She lays her head on his shoulder and he swings an arm around her.

***

 It’s much different when she comes awake.  The place beside her is empty, though still warm from his body.   She reaches out to him, and gets walloped by a whirlwind of emotions. So many of them and with such intensity that it takes her moment to recover.

“They’ll be here soon,” he says, entering the room, fully dressed, but sans cloak and mask.

He’s in pain. The Falcon, he hasn’t stepped foot on it in years. He’s not sure he’ll be able to hold himself together.  She tries to go to him but he shakes his head, “Don’t.”

It’s very clear he doesn’t wish for her comfort.

Rey purses her lips.

“Better get dressed unless you want _Finn_ to see more of you than you wish,” he says testily as he turns back into the hallway.  

“What makes you think he hasn’t?” She snaps back, taking issue with his tone.  

Her angry retort snaps him in his tracks, all his emotions coalesce into sharp jealousy. He doesn’t turn back but she can feel him vibrate with the need to know if she’s telling the truth. Then he pushes it away. Buries it deep down.  He knows he can’t have her. Ben’s lost so much already that this resignation hardly makes a dent in his already painful state.

Once she is dressed she follows him into the docking area where he waits his fate with grim acceptance. His back is facing her and he makes no move to turn when she enters. He’s determined to go through with it for his father’s sake. Pushing everything else aside, she feels him draw strength from the last gesture his father had made. Rey closes her eyes, feeling the caress of Han’s hand on her own cheek.  Han had done it, he’d brought his son home, Rey thinks sadly.

Their cocoon has been shattered, it’d been a moment suspended from everything else. But it’s gone now, and he feels too much.  Everything is a mess. The rebels, the resistance, Han and Leia, he can’t cope and he fears he won’t have the strength to go through with it.  Ben thinks pushing her away will make things easier for the both of them.  

He’s older by several years, much knowledgeable in the force than she, but in this, she feels the master. Sad state of affairs really, that of a lonely scavenger abandoned like trash trying to be an emotional support for an even more broken man.

But she tries.  Rey hugs him from behind, her head nestles into his back. Like before he stiffens, not wanting to give in. It’s a weakness he can’t afford.  But as before, he falls apart in her arms, and once he does he gives of all himself.

He shudders. “I will never make things right. Never.”

What can she say? It’s true. The things he’d done, they could never be undone. So she holds him tighter, trying to soothe his frantic heart.  He makes her want to cry for him. Him, the one she had once called a monster.

“I am a monster,” he tells her as he unclasps her arms from around his torso. “And I don’t deserve your tears or your comfort.” He turns to take the back of her head in his hand. His tragic face looks down at her with a combination of hunger, misery and fear.  He leans down to kiss her roughly. “But I am selfish and I’ll take whatever you wish to give me,” he whispers roughly against her lips. The damn breaks.

They kiss again and again. “They’ll be here soon,” Rey half groans as his fingers dip into the waistband of her leggings.

“I need you.” He says, a long finger entering her easily.

His lips go to her throat to nip and bite. He’ll leave marks and he knows it. He adds another finger and she sees stars. She pants as he backs her up against a metal storage crate.  Ben wants to have her one last time, to fill himself with her. “I need you.”

Rey helps him lower her leggings, but they’re so impatient it remains hanging from one her legs. His entrance is rough and hard, and it feels so so good. Rey grits her teeth, memorizing the fit of him inside of her, the way his face is open and almost loving.  He pounds into her, his large hands firmly at her waist as he drives himself into her, each thrust an effort to forge himself into her very soul.

She leans back to wrap her legs around him.  His hands gather in her hair, spreading it over her shoulders. It’s rough and desperate and wrenching. The future looms uncertain, but they’ll have this moment, just the two of them. Nothing matters, not their heritage or even the force. What they feel is beyond all that.  They’re a match, have always been a match.

“Rey,” he says, tortured, sensing her thoughts, mimicking their sentiment. “I’ve always known. Always.”

She clenches deliciously around him and brings a hand to where they are joined. His thrusts become deeper and more disjointed as he watches her hand play between their bodies. She feels nothing but need and lust and longing.  It’s all mixed, his and hers, everything conjoins and when he comes inside of her she tumbles after him, breathless and wrenched out.

By the time the Falcon docks they’ve made themselves presentable, barely. There’s nothing to do about her hair, so it remains a tangle mess falling down her back. She closes her vest higher on her neck, hoping it will hide the marks he’d made.

 She can feel him pulling away again, the chasm widening between them, as she conceals the evidence of his mouth and hands from her body.  Their coupling had been a goodbye, a way to dull the pain and the fear and the unknown future that was looming ahead of him. A last comfort.  Withdrawing as well, Rey waits quietly as the doors open for her friends.

Finn runs to her to sweep her into his arms. Chewie stalks in full rage and growls, his weapon pointed at Ben. Throughout their entrance Ben remain stoic. It rankles that Finn is so affectionate to her, but the Wookie’s distrust cuts him deep. It rolls off him in sad miserable waves.  This time Rey doesn’t go to him.

Ben remains quiet as she explains to her friends, again, what the plan is.

“We can’t,” Finn objects while glaring at Ben. “We can’t trust him.”

The wookie echoes him with a loud growl.  Brandishing his weapon, Chewie points it at Ben.  More growls, more angry grunts.

“Go ahead, Chewie. I won’t stop you,” Ben says.

Rey gasps. “No.”

For one horrid second she thinks Chewie will actually shoot him point blank.  Ben remains unflinchingly stoic. Finally Chewie lowers his weapon, hanging his head and heading back toward the Falcon. Finn doesn’t even try to disguise the disappointment that Ben is still standing.

“How do you know he won’t betray us once we’re there?”

“I _know.”_ Rey places a hand on Finn’s arm. She looks over at Ben. He wants to see his mother. He wants peace. She knows his every intention, had felt them inside of her, painful and raw. “Trust me. Please.”

With one final shake of his head Finn acquiesces. “This is a really bad idea.”

 Ben goes first with Finn behind pointing his blaster at him every step as they cross into the Falcon.  Rey is as anxious as Ben.  He’s bracing himself for the emotional impact of stepping into his father’s ship. But surprisingly it doesn’t come. Once he’s inside, there’s no bad memories there, no hurtful emotions. Only the feel of being home.

****

The flight is a tense one, though thankfully not a long one.  Finn is suspicious and distant, Chewie vacillates between murderous intent and deep sorrow. As for Ben, he remains sitting at the holograph table, reminiscing about playing with the Wookie. It keeps him grounded.

It’s the opposite of what she feels. She’s a bundle of nerves and shame and guilt. She should go to Finn to soothe his fears, or to Chewie who feels Han’s absence now more than ever. Rey wants to go to Ben too, wants to hold his hand and lay her head on his shoulder. Every action seems like betrayal.

When they land she’s more overwrought and Ben has reached a level of calmness that is infuriating.  He’s given up completely, accepted that his fate is no longer in his hands.  They’ll take him prisoner, maybe execute him or send him back to Snoke with a bow on his head. It doesn’t matter to him. Finn was right, this was a very very bad idea.

She has the urge to take off again, far away from the First Order and the Rebel Alliance. They could go to the outer rim. Disappear. With their skills it could be done. She looks back at Ben, locks eyes with his surprised ones. He’s tempted, and it takes all his strength to refuse.

A hollow grows in her chest.

Then Leia is running in, her eyes searching and locking on her son. “Ben.”  

Ben lowers his head, ashamed, his hair hiding his eyes. Leia goes to him, tears flowing freely and hugs him fiercely. Ben bends to wrap his arms around her. He swallows her diminutive form completely.  “Mom, don’t cry,” he says, but his own voice is breaking.

Rey’s own heart is hammering in her chest so hard that she doesn’t realize Luke is coming aboard with a handful of resistance fighters, until he’s at the entrance watching mother and son embracing with an intensity that’s frightening.  “Leia,” he says firmly.

“It’s ok,” Ben tells his mother.  

Leia nods sadly and lets him go, but not before touching his face in the same way Han had done. Ben sighs and closes his eyes and shudders a deep breath.  Then he’s being taken away by Resistance soldiers as Leia tries to hold back tears and Luke looks determinedly aloof. Finn’s looking at her strangely and Chewie is making pitiful noises that sound like wails.

She can’t breathe.

She’s a muddled mess, but the image of him being taken away strikes her raw. Ben turns around to look at her. His eyes bore into her, fragile and vulnerable. He’s asking for forgiveness, thanking her. He’s filled with shame and sorrow.  The faces of the people that are leading him away are hard and angry.

“Rey,” Luke warns, but she ignores him.

She doesn’t want to be calm and composed. There’s no lesson that applies here. It’s nothing to do with the Force.  She’s watching a broken man being taken away to an uncertain fate, a man she shares an incredible amount of intimacy with; she will not stay quiet and pretend it’s not tearing her heart.

“Wait!" she yells louder than needed.

Somehow her order is heeded and Ben turns toward her again. She pulls him down by his ears, ignores the horrified gasp from Finn and Luke’s obvious disappointment, and kisses him roughly on the lips.  Rey tries to open herself to him completely, wants him to know all she’s feeling, all of it, even if she doesn’t understand it and is not ready to accept it.  

“Whatever happens you’re not alone.”

He’s staring down at her in shock. He licks his lips once in disbelief of what she’s done, of what she has said, of what she feels. _For him_. He looks at his mother and then down at her again. The corner of his mouth tilts a little in a sad smile. All in all it’s quite pathetic as smiles go, but it makes Rey’s soul soar.

“I know.”

****

_I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,_

_or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:_

_I love you as one loves certain obscure things,_

_secretly, between the shadow and the soul._

 

_I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries_

_the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,_

_and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose_

_from the earth lives dimly in my body._

 

_I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,_

_I love you directly without problems or pride:_

_I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,_

_except in this form in which I am not nor are you,_

_so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,_

_so close that your eyes close with my dreams._

-Neruda 


End file.
